The Cornell Seven and the Mothers Saying, “I’ll Raise My Son Differently”

Why we cannot mother our way out of misogyny—and why raising the next generation of men has to include men. 

Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched mothers flood the internet with some version of the same promise: I’m raising my sons differently.

Much of that conversation was sparked by the Cornell Seven — and by the horrifying reminder of how easily misogyny can be normalized, shared, laughed at, and excused among boys and men.

I understand the instinct. When something happens that forces us to confront the way women are treated in our culture, mothers look at the little boys sitting at their kitchen tables and think: Not mine. I will teach him better. I will make sure he respects women. I will raise a good man.

And yes. We should.

But something about that response has been bothering me. I have watched mother after mother publicly promise to do better by her son. But I have not seen the same flood of fathers saying: I will show my son what better looks like.

Somehow, even the response to this became maternal labor.

Somehow, once again, we have made women responsible for fixing a problem that women did not create. And I can't help but whisper as I read the stories:

We cannot mother our way out of misogyny.

We cannot create an army of mothers who perfectly teach their sons about consent, respect, emotional intelligence, equality, and partnership–and expect that to overpower everything boys learn from the men around them.

Because boys are watching men. They are watching their fathers, their coaches, their teachers, their uncles, their older brothers, their friends’ dads, and the men they follow online.

They are watching how men talk about women when women aren’t in the room. They’re watching who cooks dinner and who cleans it up. Who remembers the doctor’s appointment. Who remembers and attends the birthday party. Who changes their schedule when a kid is sick. Who gets interrupted and who gets listened to. Who earns the money and who controls it. Who apologizes. Who gets angry. Who is allowed to cry.

They’re watching what men laugh at, what men let slide, and what men challenge.

That education is happening every single day, whether anyone sits them down for a formal conversation or not. Which is why I keep coming back to something I believe deeply: This cannot be a women’s issue.

It doesn’t work if it is.

Recently, at Le Village, we hosted screenings of No Country for Mothers, a film about the realities mothers face in America. Before the screening, I made a video saying essentially: this movie isn’t just for mothers. It’s for anyone who loves a mother. And that’s basically everyone. We all came from one. Millions of men are married to one. Men work beside mothers, employ mothers, raise children with mothers, vote on policies that affect mothers, and build workplaces and communities in which mothers are expected to function.

So get interested. Care. Show up. Watch the movie at home after you put the kids to bed while your wife or partner attends a showing.

Because mothers cannot be the only people studying the systems that hurt mothers. And women cannot be the only people talking about violence against women. Girls cannot be the only children learning about consent. And mothers and women cannot be solely responsible for teaching boys how to become men who respect women.

There is absolutely a role for us as mothers. Of course there is. I am raising a daughter, and I think constantly about what I am teaching her–what she should expect from the world, what she should demand from relationships, and what she should believe about her own value.

But if we want the world she enters to actually be different, I can’t accomplish that by raising her differently. And mothers of boys can’t accomplish it alone by raising their sons differently either.

Men have to decide that this belongs to them.” And “knowing better” is not enough.

Our daughters don’t only need boys who would never participate in something harmful themselves. They need boys who are willing to challenge the friend who does. Boys who will risk being uncomfortable, unpopular, or the one person going against the group.

Because the problem is not only the boy who crosses the line. It is also the boys standing beside him who know the line has been crossed and stay quiet.

Fathers have to talk to sons about consent–not because a woman told them to, but because that’s part of raising a boy. Men have to model equitable partnerships in their homes. Male leaders have to care about what happens to mothers in their workplaces. Men have to call out other men.

And men have to demonstrate, in a thousand ordinary moments, what respect for women actually looks like.

Because boys don’t just become men by listening to what their mothers tell them. They become men by watching the men around them.

So yes, mothers: raise your sons differently. Talk to them. Teach them. Expect more from them.

But men? We need you in this conversation.

Not standing beside us because you’re helping women with a women’s issue. Standing in it because it’s yours, too.

-DBC

Dedicated to my beautiful, fiery, kind girl. Don’t ever let them put out your light. I pray every day that the work we do today makes your tomorrow safer, freer, and more equal than the one we are in. All my love, Mama.